Kiss With a Fist
by HipsterPrince
Summary: Francis and Arthur are a couple, and they're currently spending two weeks together at Arthur's house in London. One day they start fighting. With their fists.  EnglandxFrance, rated M for violence and lemon.


**Pairing: **EnglandxFrance(ArthurxFrancis)**  
A/N: **Okay, so, like... This is my first time posting here on , and I hope I haven't failed too much. I don't think I've missed to correct any grammar errors or typos, but feel free to point things out if I have so that I can easily fix it.**  
**Anyway, hope you enjoy it!**  
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**Kiss With a Fist**

"_Merde alors_, Arthur! I'm tired of this!"

There went a plate. It shattered over the kitchen floor in a single crash, leaving a heavy silence after its death.

Arthur didn't register the porcelain not far from his feet, as his green eyes stared straight into a pair of blue ones. Francis just stared back with an icy glare, eyes burning with anger.

The newspaper rustled as Arthur carefully folded it before pressing it against the kitchen table, the chair making a scraping sound as he stood up. "… And you seem to believe that you're the only one." He raised a thick brow, looking anything but amused as he walked closer, avoiding the pieces of what used to be a flawless plate as he pointed accusingly at his partner. "Stop acting like a woman already. It's not my bloody fault that you can't take any critique!"

It had been a normal day in the household. Francis had gone to London to spend two full weeks with his beloved Englishman, and their different yet alike personalities clashed. _A terribly lot_. They hadn't gotten to spend time alone, and the French had not expected to have any fights.

And here they were, their blood boiling as they stared.

"… Woman?" The older of the two said with a twitch of a fine brow, cheeks turning red in anger as he felt very insulted. "Hah! Just because _**I**_ don't food poison those I cook for!"

"W-what? That's NOT what I was talking about, you bloody git!"

"Then WHAT do you mean?"

"I meant that your mood swings resemble that of a pregnant woman's! Hah, I think I would probably prefer a woman sometimes, not that it would make that much of a differe-"

Arthur's speech was interrupted as a delicate hand with deadly aim slapped him across the face, the loud smack indicating that it would leave a rather nice mark. With wide eyes he slowly turned his head back to look at his lover, who looked anything but sorry for what he had done.

"F… Franci-"

"Be glad it wasn't my foot crushing your cute **little** ball sack, **dick**." Francis growled in reply, baring his teeth, his whole posture stiff and almost trembling with fury as he looked ready to claw the Brit's throat out with those well treated nails that looked oddly sharp. They stared at each other for awhile, like two stray cats prepared to tear each other to pieces.

"You…" Arthur began, voice lower than normally as his eyes narrowed, thick brows furrowing. "Should know your place, **sweetheart**."

Without a warning, he lifted a leg and successfully kicked the French's ankles, making him fall to the floor with a surprised shout. Not caring that his head and shoulder hurt, Francis had in the blink of an eye rolled around and grabbed the other's ankles to return the favor, sending the now furious Brit smacking into the floor with an angry yell.

It escalated from there.

Arthur landed a punch right under the other's ribs, pulling the silky hair he adored, split the lips he loved to kiss. In return, Francis scratched his swollen cheek so that blood trickled down it, gave him a black eye and almost kneed him in the groin. They screamed, groaned, gasped for air in a singing duo as drops of blood splattered over the floor the Brit had spent an hour cleaning yesterday while they punched and kicked. They tore at each other's clothes, not wanting to give the other a single chance to flee. Buttons from Arthur's shirt clattered to the floor, the seams of the expensive cardigan Francis wore were not able to stand against the strong grip. Rolling over, Francis was on top- Just to get a fist under his chin and ending up having his head smacking against the cupboard. Not one to let go off of opportunities, the green eyed blond got to his feet and pulled up the groaning French from the floor by his collar. Sadly for him, luckily for the other, said French still had a working brain.

"Oh _**NON**_, _mon chéri_!" With a loud crack, his fist collided with Arthur's jaw while he also stomped on his supposed to be conqueror's foot with all his might.

"My bloody god, you **bitch**!" Arthur exclaimed as he jumped on one foot and at the same time rubbed on his own, now sore jaw, while Francis watched with slight amusement.

"_Pauvre bébé_." He hissed with half of a bitter smile, before darting out of the kitchen. The other wasn't far behind though, much to his dismay.

"Francis you blasted bastard, get your girly ass back here this instant!" Roaring despite his hurting jaw, Arthur just managed to get in time to grab onto the bathroom door's handle before it closed and was locked. "Don't you even **dare**!"

"Gah-! Just drop it you silly _personne_! I don't want to see you and those brows of yours!"

"There's-" The door flew open, causing the Francis to shriek in horror. "-Nothing-" A grip of steal around his collar. "-Wrong-" The door was closed. "-With my eyebrows!" The Brit yelled straight into his face as he was slammed against the bathroom door, familiar hands wrapping themselves around his elegant neck. The longer they stayed, the more pressure was added to their squeezing to attempt to block his only way to breathe.

"Understood, **frog**?" Arthur said with a stern voice, breathing a bit heavier as he let his eyes lock with the widened blue ones…

Time stood still. Francis didn't even wheeze as he stared back, having forgotten to claw at the hands choking him and that he needed to breathe. There was a thick silence filling the air as the hands unwrapped themselves from the neck, red marks appearing on the cream colored skin. The wavy hair stuck to his warm, sweaty and bloody face. He hadn't even noticed. Neither had Arthur noticed that he looked about the same. Francis was the first to move.

He threw his arms around the other's neck, forcing the Brit into a rough kiss as he gripped onto the shirt, using his right leg to wrap around and press his lover and ex-enemy closer to him. A moan escaped him as the other kissed back, hands gripping onto his thighs as their hips grinded against each other.

Arthur groaned into the kiss, pulling away to lick the wound he had caused, making the trapped body twitch and a half pained mewl escaping the parted lips. The taste of metal and the sound sent him into a state of want, of need for the other. Lapping the blood from the angrily swollen bottom lip, his hands started to feel the thighs under them. More well formed limbs you had to search for. It made him wonder how the darn French got into those bloody ass hugging pants of his. Not that Arthur complained – It was always a sight for the eye. Sadly, today's attire had a pair of loose three-quarter pants together with the white tight linen and mocha brown cardigan (which Francis would kill him for destroying later on).

_**Curses**_.

Growing impatient, not able to stand it, Francis took a steady grip of the short sand blond hair and forced the younger into a hungry kiss. Shamelessly he rubbed himself against the other, using the gasps he caused to his advantage to stick his tongue into the wet cavern connected to his, exploring and feelings its every corner. His other hand gracefully slid down the chest close to his own, before turning to land on the back again, just so that he could reach lower and grab a handful of the British bottom. He didn't care that his lip stung, their hot kisses tearing at the wound, crimson drops falling from his chin. Breaking the latest kiss, he tore open Arthur's shirt with both hands – Or rather the part which wasn't already torn, and attacked the newly exposed skin with his painfully swollen lips. Though Arthur wouldn't have that, oh no. With a grip that made the Frenchman's look like a gentle caress, he grabbed a handful of the wavy hair, making the owner let out a cry and let his head be forced back so that tear filled eyes stared at the ceiling.

"Poor sweetheart, does it hurt…?" Growled Arthur before sinking his teeth into the overly exposed neck, adding just enough pressure to feel that metallic taste again, shuddering in delight at the feeling over the other's steady and loud pulse. He could even feel the whimpers vibrate in the throat close to his ear, making him suck and lick the newly formed wound, grinning as he leaned back to inspect it. How nicely purple it would be in the morning, instead of the angry red color it was turning. Leaning in again, he licked the skin right under Francis' ear and behind the jaw, one of the spots he knew made the French lose the need to resist. A shudder and a shaky hold on his shirt proved him right as he pressed his lips against the spot; licking, sucking, nibbling and scraping on it with his teeth. His free hand was occupied with spreading the other's legs, successfully doing so and completely trapping the older. Though said person didn't seem to mind too much as the shoulder length hair was finally released, and he dared to feel all of the naked skin the Brit was currently exposing.

Slowly, Francis wrapped his legs around the hips pressed against his, making sure to cause as much pressure as possible.

Their hands began to roam over the other's body, causing winces and whimpers upon touching bruises, drawing moans when caressing sensitive skin. Hissing into one of Francis' ears before licking the shell and then nibbling and sucking on the pierced lobe, Arthur managed to slide the cardigan off of the other's shoulders. Though he stopped his actions and moaned into the ear. The sneaky bastard had undone his pants and was currently feeling his hard on with ghost like touches, before taking it out and making him hiss again as it was exposed to the surprisingly cool air. He had thought it would be quite warm by now…

"Let me help you with that, _mon amour_…~" Purred Francis as he pulled on the foreskin, before rubbing onto the head with his thumb as the rest of the fingers wrapped around the shaft. How he loved the sounds it caused, and he couldn't help but blush as a smug smile graced his lips. Slowly he began to pump the member, drawing out moans from the one trapping him against the door. He felt his own pants tighter despite their looseness, but he didn't pay too much attention to it.

Though, it was a relief when he heard and felt his own zipper and button being undone, his erection twitching as it was exposed when the Brit pulled down both his pants and boxers. An impulse went through him, and shifting so that their members were touching, he grabbed both of them with a shaky sigh. Then he moved his hand again, up and down along their shafts, making them both sigh and moan in pleasure. It was so pleasant, Francis didn't think much of it as two hands grabbed his bum, making him wrap an arm around the other's neck to prevent falling onto the floor as his back was no longer touching the door. With closed eyes he started to kiss and lick on the neck and collarbone before him, oblivious to what Arthur was doing.

That is, until he was suddenly torn from the other and then dropped onto the floor in the shower with a very manly squeak, the shower turned on not long after. He gasped loudly as the almost cold water hit him with an uncomfortable force, before the temperature rose to a level he was used to. Sending a glare through the curtain of wet hair, he watched through the dim glass as Arthur rummaged through the cupboard before appearing in the other's clear vision with a cocky grin and throwing a bottle onto the floor beside Francis' wet form. The French took notice of how bratty the other looked with that half closed black eye and the grin he wanted to punch off of that face.

"Sorry darling." Arthur replied to the glare he received, removing his shirt before stepping into the shower and closing it. He knelt down in between the other's spread legs, leaning in to kiss the French, but got an arrogant snort and the turn of a head in return. Grimacing, he took a hold of the waistband of the three quarter pants, pulling them off together with the rose patterned boxers in a swift move and soon enough the socks joined in- leaving only the linen to clutch to the slim body like a second skin and the cardigan hanging loosely from the elbows. He then tried again, but got a slender hand slapping over his mouth.

"N-_non_, you stupid _Britannique_! You-" Francis was cut off by lips crashing against his own, taken completely by surprise as he was also pressed down against the wet floor, a hand holding both of his wrist in such a tight hold that it would leave marks. He struggled, tried to somehow get the other off him, but all in vain. A gasp escaped him as a hand rather roughly pinched one his nipples through the linen, a tongue slipping into his mouth to taste him. And there went his resistance, together with the hand who grabbed his erection, stroking it while the other hand let go off of his wrists. Wrapping his arms around the others neck, pressing his palms against the slick back, he moaned into the kiss and moved closer to the body over his. It was hard not to slip, but he managed. Arthur pulled away, breathing heavily as he turned his attention to the bottle and snatched it up, cursing as he couldn't open the cap. He grumbled as he heard a breathy snicker, arms unwrapping from his neck as the French took the bottle, and with the help of a nail opened it.

"… I assume by our position that you're in the mood to be the man, _mon lapin_…" Mumbling mostly to himself, Francis let his eyes be half open as he poured some of lube onto his fingers, not hesitating to reach down between his legs and immediately pushing his middle finger into his own entrance. Arthur didn't seem to mind watching the French fingering himself, green eyes hungrily watching the digit move in and out, buried to the knuckles as a second finger joined in. While the other was busy to prepare, he took the bottle and coated his hard on with the substance, making it slick enough for what would happen next.

The hand trembled and twitched as Francis scissored himself, trying to stretch himself while holding back sounds of both pleasure and discomfort by biting into his upper lip. Though he didn't get far, as the Brit yanked his hand away, before roughly grabbing his hips and thrust inside. Blue eyes widened as he let out a hoarse cry, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

Hushing softly, Arthur leaned over, pushing deeper and deeper until he was buried to the hilt. "Ssh darling… Let me kiss it better…" He murmured with a crooked smile, earning another scratching from the squirming Frenchman under him. Hissing, he brought up a hand to feel the new wounds that crossed the others on his cheek, cursing as he saw red liquid mixing with the water.

"You bastard! Idiot! Lowlife!" Francis yelled, hitting his shaking fists onto the other's shoulder. A loud gasp and whimper escaped him as the other began to move with a dangerously low growl, making the French throw his arms around the Brit's shoulders and dig his fingers into the naked back.

Soon the pain was forgotten, the friction against his inner walls and the wonderful feeling of being filled getting the best of him as he moaned and whimpered, his nails leaving long scratches on his lover's back while he wrapped his legs around the hips that connected with his thighs as they thrust forward. Grunting, Arthur ignored the stinging on his back, tightening his hold and clawing at the hips in his hands. The warm tightness felt so good, he thought he would come as soon as he had entered. Licking his lips, he thrust harder into the heat, pulling on the hips to make the French meet him.

Their lips met again, widely parted as their tongues danced against each other between them, tasting each other and the water pouring down on them. Moans and groans echoed through the walls, together with the soft sounds of the water that had since long drenched them to the bone. Blindingly Arthur obeyed to every gasped out plead, going harder and faster in order to please them both, burying his face and groaning into the marked neck below him. The skin still had a faint, flowery scent and it made him smile faintly. Lovely. He wrapped his arms around Francis' waist, his hands grabbing the opposite hip to the one they previously held, and lifted them both so that the other was almost sitting on him. It gave him the opportunity to push deeper into what he thought was the most beautiful body he'd ever seen, listening to the soft cries of pleasure developing into louder, more high pitched ones. Once again they kissed, deeply and lovingly as Francis clung to him, trying to move with him with surprisingly smooth hip motions.

"F-Francis… J-just a little more…!" He gasped, trying to push as deep as possible, knowing that it would send them both to the edge. With only one properly working eye and a blurred sight, it was even harder to see if it was tears or water that ran down the other's flushed cheek.

"A-auh! _O-oui, mon cher, c-c'est_- Ah!" Francis gasped, before starting to blabber some more rapid French gibberish that made no sense in the short haired blonde's ears, his hands trembling as they gripped and clawed onto the other's shoulder blades. That is, until he almost jabbed his nails into the skin while leaning his head back as he almost howled Arthur's name, his body shaking and twitching as he came over their stomachs and chests.

Arthur gritted his teeth as the walls around him clamped down unbelievably good on his organ, and with a few more rough thrusts that caused the older to whimper pathetically and shake even more, he spilled his seed deep into the man that clung to him with a purr-like moan.

As he had caught most of his breath, he lifted the body a little and pulled out with a soft sigh, before shifting so that he sat on his behind against the wall with the Frenchman still in his lap and his arms lazily wrapped around said person. He blinked as a content humming reached his ears, and looked down at the head resting on his chest.

"That was nice…~" Francis purred softly as he rested against the other, not feeling like moving just yet. His voice was still hoarse. "Though I could've done without the fighting…" He murmured, luring a light laugh out of the Brit.

"Ah, yes, not to mention that people are going to ask when they see us…" Reaching up, Arthur gently caressed his loved one's damp cheek, before running his fingers through the darkened hair. It was a little longer than dry, seeing as it was naturally thick and wavy… He really loved the other's hair, always had admired it. He didn't know his mind had rose to the clouds until soft, bruised lips connected with his and took him back down to earth. His cheeks took on a red color as he saw the other's teasing smile.

"Come on, _mon amour_, let us get out and dry ourselves. I don't know about you, but I don't want to look like huge, dried grape."

With a heavy sigh and a tilted smile, Arthur shook his head and let himself be dragged to his feet.

As he turned off the shower and joined the other in taking off the wet pieces of clothing so they could hang them to dry, he thought it all through and decided that next time they started fighting, he might as well kiss the French senseless.

**The End**


End file.
